John Johnson: Epic Hero
by MOOOOO
Summary: A satire of epic proportions, based on the Odyssey. This is my first fanfic and reviews are of course welcome!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Odyssey or any of its characters

**John Johnson: Epic Hero**

Oh Muse, somewhere out there where I cannot see,

Disclaimer: I do not own the Odyssey or any of its characters

Oh Muse, somewhere out there where I cannot see,

Please help me tell the story of a truly difficult and aggravating journey

Done by one man alone in a sea of people Just trying to accomplish a quest for his dear wife back at home Awaiting for some word from her long gone husband For his cell phone is dead and she cannot reach him

So she waits with her son while her husband goes to the land that is The Mall

To return an ill-fitting gift given to his beloved by a senile old mother

His trials are many and few could withstand

What this one, ever-patient man has to go through

And yet he, John Johnson, hater of all that is shopping, does it

Accomplishing what no one thought he would be able to do alone

But is he really alone?

Along the way Salesclerk Lady, a vision in a smock, helps him along

Making sure that he would be able to do what he went there to do.

So sing in me oh muse, helper of Homer, and aid me

In this telling of a most wondrous tale of patience, despair, and a little bit of luck


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the Odyssey or any of its characters

As James Johnson twirled his fork around the Italian delight that is spaghetti,

As James Johnson twirled his fork around the Italian delight that is spaghetti,

He thought again of his father, alone out there, somewhere,

No one knew if he had even reached The Mall yet

Since the cell phone his father had taken was apparently out of battery

Neither for the first, nor for the last time James thought longingly of his father.

At home he was surrounded by the harpies his mother called friends.

They ate his cookies and pinched his cheeks, never seeming to leave.

How fervently the patience-strained James wished his father were there

To keep him amused in his hour of boredom.

But no,

He was long gone and there was still no sign of his return.

At that moment the ever-persevering John Johnson was stuck

In a great, never-ending mass of cars, strewn across the beltway.

He was so close, and yet so far, to reaching his destination, The Mall

He could see it, a massive cement building,

Gray and dull on the outside, but colorful and full of life on the inside

How John detested the very sight of it

But long ago he had made a promise to his dear wife

That he would return the hideous, ill-fitting sweater his mother had given her

And return home for a delicious dinner ordered from the far land of Dominoes

There had been many hardships on his journey to this place

Every flash of red light that came from the little box on the wire had been torture

However, the worst came when he had been faced with the urgent need

To find a place, any place, where he could go to the bathroom.

Speeding along, he had just spotted the island of McDonalds when it came

The first thing he noticed were flashing bright red and blue lights

Then he saw a rather overweight man in blue eating a round pastry with a hole

When the man had reached his car he tapped once on the window, and then again

John was filled with dread, but the monster was so fearsome he had to do it

He rolled down the window, slowly but surely, wondering what was to come

It peered at him with his beady eyes, his little moustache twitching in distaste

After what seemed like hours of fervent explaining, he was given a piece of paper

As the monster left to feast on some other poor, hapless victim

John just made it to the island in time, however

Not before he had spilled his espresso, the only breakfast he had left

With tears in his eyes at having ruined the beautiful upholstery

John had set off once again toward his destination

Only now was he finally reaching his goal, for that was how intense traffic was


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the Odyssey or any of its characters

As he neared his goal, his relief was soon turned into panic

As he neared his goal, his relief was soon turned into panic

Apparently his wife's present was not the only one in need of returning

There was barley a corner left for him to rest his ship

Even a little Mini Cooper like the one he owned was too large

In the end he was forced to park in a no-parking zone,

All the while praying the obese monster would not find him there.

His plan was to run inside like the wind itself, carrying with him nothing

But the hideous beast that was the sweater

So that he could run back a moment later with his reward in hand

This was not to be

As he ran inside, the ever-patient man was tossed and turned, twirled and thrown

Jostled about by the incessant stream of customers

Finally, his foot stepped on and sleeve torn by some old lady's umbrella,

He found the cashier, a skinny little lady who smacked gum as she talked

John asked her, begged her to take the sweater in return for a small financial token

But instead she tormented him, ceaselessly talking in her nasal tone

About receipts and having a no return after thirty days policy

After a long battle, John retreated, his spirit in pieces.

He hated to disappoint his beloved, but there it was, the situation was hopeless

And then it came

The ever-helpful Salesclerk Lady, a vision in a smock

She came to him, slowly gracefully, like a goddess herself

And asked in the kindest way possible, if he needed any help with anything

He looked up slowly, almost as if to wonder if this kind soul was real

And he told her his tale

His words, his stories, his despair, it all came rushing down in a torrent

When he had finished Salesclerk Lady turned to Cashier Lady and said

"Are you sure we couldn't just let him exchange it for something else?"

As Cashier Lady grudgingly shrugged her shoulders in acknowledgment,

John let out a cry of joy; the completion of his task was almost at hand!

Filled with pride, John made one, final, crucial mistake

He turned to Cashier Lady, who was in the middle of the exchange process,

And declared, "Why can you not be more helpful to others like myself?  
We are your customers and you are our aids in this land. We depend on you to help us, for we are innocent and do not know whether to buy this or that, whether to exchange or to return. I am sure I am not the only one who has suffered at your hands. We ask, beg, plead with you to help us in our time of need and yet you ignore us with a frivolity that is most alarming. I repeat, why can you not be more helpful to others like myself? You wear the green smock that must be worn by all employees in this place and yet you continue to act like you are here to do nothing more than smack your Juicy Fruit and slide items across your small red laser beam. I for one am ashamed. I am ashamed at what this world is coming to. There was a time when an employee was proud to work at a store and do his or her duty as a good man or woman should. And so, for forgetting to serve in the way that you should, I slap you. I slap you so that you shall feel the humiliation that all your predecessors must feel at having you to fill their shoes."

And slap her he did. Right across the cheek.

That one final action was his last.

Even as his hand arched gracefully back to his side,

Two men, not unlike the obese one from before, grabbed him forcefully

And half-dragged him all the way outside.

With neither money nor sweater in hand, John retreated back to his car

Alas! His car was not to be found. Someone had discovered his trickery.

So he rode the bus home, crestfallen, his spirit beaten and his pride hurt

And once again the beacon of light Salesclerk Lady came

She was in a smock no more, but rather in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt

And she spoke: "Take comfort man, at least you will soon be home."

However, as she spoke these comforting words the demon of irony struck

The bus suddenly went to a side of the road and came to a dead halt

As they all clamored, the driver declared the bus had run out of gasoline

There was nothing to be done; they would be stuck there for all eternity


End file.
